Chapter4
1349 Words
***Piper***
Another day, another dollar.
I worked my way through all the chores. Even though my body protested any form of movement, I had dinner started. Hopefully, tonight, he would not decide to throw a fit over what was cooked. Since he had told me what he wanted, I just followed his orders.
But who was I kidding? I was sure he would find something wrong with it; after all, that was how the last few weeks had been going.
He seemed to have a short fuse lately. He was always yelling on the phone at someone. He had been gone for two whole days. It had been a short-lived vacation for me, even though I never left the house.
I was not stupid; I knew what would happen if he found out I even stepped foot outside without his permission.
However short my break was, it would suddenly stop once he walked through the door; To him, I was only there for him to let out his aggravation.
I have been spotting a lovely black eye and another busted lip, not that it held from the other times, along with a few new bruises on my legs and back.
The door opened and slammed shut, making me jump. Knowing it was him. When he entered the kitchen, my body instantly tensed.
"How long?" he barked at me.
"Five minutes," I said slowly.
He did not say anything. Turning, he walked out, and I let out the breath I had been holding.
I quickly finished, plating up some food and taking it to the dinner table. He came back in, sat down, and looked at the food in front of him.
"It seems you decided to listen today. Good. Go get a plate and sit down."
"Thank you," I told him. He nodded, then started to eat.
Grabbing my plate, I sat softly and quietly at the other end of the table. I picked at my food, pushing it around the plate to make it look like I was eating, but I was not hungry. My fears of what he might do outweighed any desire for food right now.
"I have a guest coming over tonight. I want you dressed properly and be downstairs by eight," he said without looking up as he typed away on his phone.
"Make sure it's a dress; I do not want you coming down here in pants." He looked up, his eyes glaring at me.
"Yes, Peter."
What was he doing? He never had me around when he had people over. He made me hide so they didn't see me, and I was happy to do so. I didn't want to get to know the people he associated with. If they were anything like him, I would not need any more Peters in my life. One was enough.
Peter walked off after he finished his food, phone in hand. I watched as he stepped out the back door. I gathered the plates and cleaned the kitchen. I moved to peek out the back and saw him with his phone to his ear as he talked with someone. He seemed angry as he paced.
Hurrying upstairs, I followed what he told me. I found a white and yellow sundress that was a loose fit; I didn't want his friend to give me those looks as if they wanted to eat me. I could remember hearing their comments about my looks and body. I didn't want to give them any opportunity.
Making my way back downstairs, I heard the doorbell ring a few minutes ago; I could hear voices as I made my way down.
Once I reached the bottom, I went to the living room. Stopping at the doorway, I saw three men standing there. Peter had poured them a drink, and they all held a glass in their hands. One of them noticed me.
"Well, hello, gorgeous."
His voice sent a shiver down my spine, and not the good kind. He looked me up and down, licking his lips. I didn't recognize these men; I had never seen them before.
"Piper, come here," Peter called out to me.
I scurried over to him. He may be what causes most of my pain, but right now, he was a safe spot from the stares of these men.
"Dam, Pet, you didn't say she was a knockout," one of the others said, looking at me the same as this first one did. I wanted to disappear.
"You guys remember the rules?" Peter asked them, to which they all nodded.
My stomach dropped. What was he talking about? Rules for what?
"Good. You have three hours. Make it count. The second door on the left at the top of the stairs."
He shoved me forward toward the three men.
"Peter?" I called out, looking over my shoulder.
"Enjoy."
He spun around, walking out of the room. Then came the click of the door as he left.
***Bear***
Bash and I were in my office reviewing some of the information the prospects had found. We had a few names, and I had our tech guy look into them. He had folders on four different men. I also had him look into the ones who had OD in my club; I wanted background on them to see if they had been users.
I had him cross-examine them with the others who had died, trying to see if they were connected in any way. I didn't want to rule out anything, so I let the club stay closed down for two days but opened it back up, knowing my workers couldn't afford to miss out on any more money.
So far, none of them knew one another, and the one who died didn't have a history of drug use. It seemed like a one-time deal that cost them their lives.
The one who had made it was still in a coma, so I couldn't talk to him.
"I don't know, man. This seems like a hit-and-miss. There's no pattern; they deal it however they can."
I had to agree; that was one thing I noticed. First, there is no pattern in how it is dealt out. Every major dealer has a pattern. They have a particular spot, use specific ways to hand it out, and they use the same route and routine. But this has so many holes and gaps.
"I know, which makes it hard to follow or get any leads."
"The regular dealers aren't going to like these guys dealing on their turf."
"That's true. I'm sure they are hunting them the same as we are, but for a different reason."
Suddenly, his phone went off. Pulling it out, "Mols," he said before he answered it. "Hey, baby."
He paused. I could hear her voice but not what she was saying.
"Mol, hold up. Slow down. I can't understand you. What happened?"
He shot to his feet. "I'll be right there. Calm down, Molly."
His tone made me snap my head up.
He shoved his phone back in his pocket.
"Everything alright, man?"
"No, we need to get down to the hospital."
I was on my feet at the tone of his voice. "Everything okay with Molly?"
He shook his head as we rushed out the door. We hurried out the front door; he wasn't talking, but he was moving like his ass was on fire.
"s**t, Bash, what's going on?"
"I'll explain it when we get there. I'm not entirely sure what happened. All I could make out was that someone Molly knows was hurt, and she needs us there."
Racing through the streets, we pulled up at the hospital where Molly works. We were off our bikes and burst through the doors. Bash headed straight for the emergency side; once through the door, we saw Molly pacing in the waiting room.
"Molly," he called out to her. She turned. You could see she was crying. He pulled her to him.
"What happened, Molly?"
Whatever it is, it looks bad. by the state Molly is in.
- Writer
